


What A Plane in the Airse

by Rikkapikasnikka



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Airports, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge, Prompt Fic, Sprint Fic, Stuck At An Airport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka
Summary: On the way to Adrien and Kagami's wedding, Marinette and Luka get stuck at an airport in Finland. Oops.Written for the Lovebugs and Snake Charmers sprint fic challenge, September 2020.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 28
Kudos: 68
Collections: LBSCSprintFicChallenge





	What A Plane in the Airse

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I did sprint, like, 2,000 words of this ( _somehow_ ), but when I edited/tried to smooth out transitions, I added another 700 words. So while it's a cute one-shot, I think I failed the essence of the challenge. Oh well!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who cheered me on in the LBSC server! You all are so kind and supportive <3  
> Thank you to Cass for being a wonderful, fantastic beta!
> 
> Prompt chosen: "As long as I'm next to you, I don't care"

“What do you  _ mean, _ there isn’t another flight?!”

“Madame, please--”

“We need to be in Tokyo by tomorrow!”

Marinette was a wild, raging ball of fury, and while Luka wasn’t terrified, the poor receptionist at the brunt of her displeasure looked ready to call for security. She kept glancing each and every way as Marinette unleashed one angry comment after another, and just as the receptionist reached for the phone under the customer service desk, Luka laid a hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

His wife rounded on him, ready to snarl, but Luka forced his face into one of calm acceptance and smiled.

“They’re not going to be able to do anything about it, Marinette,” he said softly, quietly, knowing that her rage wasn’t  _ really  _ directed at him or the poor employee behind the counter. “We’ll just have to call him and explain.”

All of the fight went out of Marinette like a popped balloon, and she seemed to shrink before his eyes. Her shoulders slumped, her lower lip stuck out, and even her pigtails seemed to droop sadly. Marinette looked ready to cry, and Luka felt ready to grovel for her forgiveness.

“It’s his  _ wedding,” _ she whined. “I promised I’d  _ be _ there…”

Luka took a deep breath, glanced skyward for some help, be it catholic or cosmic, and then tried to examine the situation as best he could.

Approximately four hours into their flight from Paris, France to Tokyo, Japan, their pilot had announced that an emergency stop would be made in Helsinki, Finland. Now, Marinette and Luka were mislaid and stuck at the large airport, and they were on a time crunch. They had forty-eight hours to get to a small province in western Japan, and at least twelve of those hours were booked by preparations, fittings, rehearsal, and all sorts of other wedding shenanigans. At least another six were reserved by travelling in and around Japan itself. So they only had… Luka struggled to do the maths.

“I know,  _ chanson,” _ Luka tried to placate her. “But it’s not your fault the plane had to stop. This isn’t something anyone could’ve prepared for. We can only do our best.”

“They’re saying they won’t have another flight until morning!” Marinette gestured wildly at the receptionist, who was already on the phone. “We’ll be  _ late!” _

Realising Marinette wasn’t going to let it go, Luka sighed deeply. He used his thumbs to brush tears from the corners of her eyes and stooped to lay a kiss on the top her head. “Trust me?” he whispered, and Marinette tearily nodded.

Unfazed, Luka stepped forward to the counter. “Excuse me,” he said, in as polite and fluid English as he could muster, instead of the clearly-intimidating French his wife had been spewing. “Can we connect flight somewhere? Ho Chi Minh? Singapore? Bangkok?”

The employee relaxed a little, seemingly relieved to be dealing with someone who was willing to remain calm. “I will look, sir.” 

But Luka wasn’t going to blame Marinette for being frazzled. Her passion, her determination, even in moments like these, had always drawn him to her. She was worried she wouldn't arrive in time for her best friend's most important day--even though she was supposed to be his Best Woman.

The attendant clicked through the computer, nibbling her bottom lip. Behind Luka, Marinette paced back and forth in the small space, her arms crossed and thumb at her mouth. The seconds slipped by in silence, as slick as snakeskin, as strained as stretched-out strings.

“We have a flight for Bangkok at three,” the employee finally said. Marinette rushed forward to the counter, stars in her eyes. “And they have a flight to Tokyo thirty minutes after arrival. But if your flight was delayed in any way… You’d be stuck in Bangkok overnight.”

Luka swore in French, and Marinette groaned. The receptionist looked uneasy.

“Is it worth the risk?” Luka asked his wife, keeping his voice low in hopes that she would follow suit. She weighed the options in her head, probably glossing over the pros and cons, before speaking up to ask her own question. Her English wasn’t as clear as Luka’s, but it was decent enough.

“How sooner will we arrive to Tokyo?” Marinette pleaded. The attendant double checked the times on her screen, or so Luka assumed, but the expression that crossed her face wasn’t good.

“Five hours,” she said, and Marinette’s mouth flattened into a straight line. Luka took over again.

“May we discuss? Call our friend?” he requested, already laying a hand on the small of Marinette’s back to guide her away. The employee nodded and then beckoned for the next customer as Luka mumbled a quiet, “Let’s call him.” He guided her across the crowded hallway to sit on a bench, the windows displaying a sunny, blue sky and puffy, white clouds.

She was already pulling out her phone as Luka dropped their carryon bags and collapsed in the seat. She tapped around on it, turning off the aeroplane mode and connecting to the airport wifi. Soon, she was calling her best friend as she paced in the two-metre space in front of the bench. Luka thought about telling her to stop and at least sit-down, but he knew she would just fidget. She needed to get out that restless energy somehow, especially after spending five useless hours on a cramped aeroplane.

“Adrien!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as the call connected. “Listen, something happened, and--”

As Marinette launched into a dramatic retelling of what happened on the flight, Luka closed his eyes and tuned out the conversation. Part of him was glad he had agreed to accompany his wife on this trip: In the beginning, when he had first been asked to travel with her to Japan for Adrien and Kagami’s wedding, Luka had wanted to say no. He wasn’t particularly close with the bride, his relationship with the groom was shaky at best, and seeing the way Marinette and Adrien connected and danced around each other was still…

It wasn’t painful, not anymore. Luka wasn’t jealous of the blond, but he both admired and feared the deep, lasting connection between the two best friends. They were animated and full of life and love and drive; they were bound by something deeper than basic human connections. Luka couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but--

“Adrien,  _ no,” _ Marinette suddenly barked, and Luka opened his eyes to glance at her. She was scowling again. “Don’t do that, we’ll make it there with-- I said no!”

“What does he want to do?” Luka inquired, running a palm over his face and sitting up straight. Marinette chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“He wants to find us a  _ private _ flight, damn rich brat. Yes, you!” She turned back to the phone call as Luka chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me, you know it’s true! We’re making it on our own just fine, so don’t you even think about it,  _ chaton!” _

Aaahh, that nickname. She only used it when she got really riled up with him. Luka smirked and laid back.

Adrien was clearly still talking on the other line, and Marinette’s frown slowly eased into something less nasty. Eventually she sighed and gave in to whatever Adrien was saying, and she rubbed the back of her neck--just like Adrien would always do when he was nervous. Luka put it to the back of his mind.

“That’s fine,” she uttered, “We’ll do that. But you better still have as much ready to go as possible, Adrien. I’m not letting you delay your big day just because of us.”

Luka could practically hear Adrien’s response, even though he couldn’t catch any sound from the phone through the busy airport:  _ “Don’t worry, Milady; I don’t want to start without you.” _

She had said something similar to Adrien when he’d been late to their wedding last year.

Over the phone, Marinette and Adrien hammered out and finalised the details of whatever plan they had come up with, and Luka hummed as she hung up and collapsed into the adjacent seat.

“Verdict?” he said, peeking at her, his thumb now running over his ring. He wanted to fidget, but he also wanted to give her all of his attention.

“Adrien’s driving to Narita in the morning,” Marinette explained. “He’s going to pick us up so we don’t have to take the train.”

“Damn,” Luka said with a raised eyebrow, impressed. “He can drive?”

Marinette laughed and nudged him. “Shall we go tell the employee we’re staying here overnight then?”

Luka rolled his eyes and then rolled to his feet. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

He had to stand back in line again, but once he got to the front, the receptionist recognised him and they held a hushed conversation. Luka frequently glanced back at Marinette whenever he could, but she was fiddling around on her phone, probably texting Kagami or Alya. When the employee ultimately confirmed their new plane tickets and their departure time, even Luka was feeling antsy again.

“Thank you very much,” he said with a smile, before heading back to stand beside his anxious wife.

“Done?” Marinette stood up, her eyes questioning, and Luka nodded.

“Tomorrow morning,” he grumbled. “Flight straight to Tokyo, bright and early.”

They agreed to find food. It didn’t take long to locate a cute restaurant, order a meal, and sit down at a table, but the crowds made it exhausting. Luka was starting to feel the effects of it, but Marinette looked even worse. He could see her hands shaking, and Luka made an effort to hold hers as often as he could, running his thumb along her knuckles, if only to stop his own trembling.

While they ate, they admired the layout of the airport. The structural features of Helsinki were fun to look at, from the crisscrossing beams that decorated the ceiling, and the gleaming and glittering tiles on the floor. Several lighting features were set up like trees or clouds or stars, and they discussed the implementation and choices behind them, theorising how they related to Finnish culture or custom. And as Marinette’s enthusiasm, for both her food and the conversation, started to dwindle, Luka nudged her under the table and she brought her head back up to blink at him.

“It’ll be okay,” Luka reassured her, trying to smile as he picked up her hand. “Adrien’s still going to get married either way. Just like we did.”

“I know,” she mumbled, glancing back down at her meal. Marinette pushed it away. “I just feel like a bad friend.”

“You’re not,” Luka pressed. “You’re doing all that you can, and you’re frustrated, but he seemed pretty understanding.”

“He was, and so was Kagami.” Marinette ran the fingers of her other hand through her hair, and Luka reached forward to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. “I’m sorry I dragged you along,” she apologised, her eyes downcast. “I know you didn’t...really want to go.”

“Marinette,” Luka stressed, and she looked back up. “You’re right, I was nervous about coming. But honestly, as long as I’m next to you, I don’t care.” He brought their joined hands up, and he gently kissed the inside of her wrist. “Going on this journey with you will be a present in and of itself.”

She flushed and giggled, and Luka grinned, happy to see her smile. Eventually, they stood up, cleaned off their table, and threw away the trash from their meal. Then they walked the halls of the airport, stopping to stare at artwork and artefacts in display cases, watch planes land and take off again, admire the design elements of some of the common rooms, and just simply enjoy each other’s company.

But then, they had to search for somewhere to stay for the night.

“Do you think we can leave and find a hotel?” Luka was looking out another set of windows, out at the city that glowed silver and gold in the darkening sky. “Or would that be too complex? Is Finland even  _ in _ the EU?”

Marinette hummed beside him, her arm wrapped around his. “I’m pretty sure it is,” she replied. “But I don’t want any risk of us missing the flight. We’d have to come back through security, after all.”

Luka groaned, turning them away from the window and back into the tiled hallway with its too-bright lights and brilliant colours. As the clocks ticked later and later, all of the passengers had either gone home or left on departing flights, leaving the once-crowded halls of the airport empty and stagnant. It was odd, strangely ethereal, and Luka felt uneasy in the wide-open spaces meant for crowds and crowds of people - that they alone now stood solo in.

It was such a weird contrast to earlier, when he had felt caged in by cramped quarters and numerous bodies, and he wasn’t sure which distressing circumstance he preferred. 

“That employee mentioned cots, didn’t she?” Marinette reminded him. “Should we go try to find them?”

“Do you remember where they were?” Luka glanced up and down the hallway. “Somewhere by like, gate forty, right?”

They headed in that direction, mostly silent. Luka yawned, shifting his carryon bag to his other shoulder, and Marinette let go of him to rub at her eyes. They wandered together, leaning occasionally on one another, laughing as they hung onto elbows to prevent the other from falling. Exhaustion was hitting them hard; they were travel-weary and worn. Marinette wanted a shower, and Luka wanted to sleep, and he would’ve gladly settled for a bench if his wife hadn’t wrinkled her nose at the idea.

“If there’s beds,” she scoffed, “We’ll sleep in beds.”

They finally stumbled upon a large gathering of cots and other customers. Airport employees were going around, handing out blankets and pillows, and Luka and Marinette gladly accepted one of each when offered. Afterwards, they claimed two cots for themselves, pushing the small beds closer together so they could lie as close as possible.

Luka arranged their carryon bags between them, underneath their cots but reachable through the gap, as Marinette laid down and tried to get settled. He leaned over and pulled the blanket over her, and she tried to swat at him playfully. Luka smirked and caught her hand, but his grip was light enough for Marinette to touch it to his cheek.

Loudly, she yawned, and Luka chuckled.

“You slept on the plane, y’know,” he reminded her, nuzzling into her palm as a cheeky grin stretched across his face. She rolled her eyes.

“So did you,” Marinette pointed out, huffing as Luka slowly kissed her palm. He could see the pink in her cheeks, however, and he lowered her hand as he laid down in his own bed.

“Not for very long,” he admitted, pulling the blanket over his body. He hated sleeping in jeans, but at least he could take his shoes off. “Someone has  _ very _ bony shoulders.”

Marinette gasped, covering her mouth and swatting at him with more purpose this time, clearly pretending to be offended. Luka laughed in response, but they were interrupted when one of the employees spoke loudly in Finnish. Suddenly, the lights around them dimmed, and the airport hallway was bathed in nothing but a faint, orange glow. They dropped their voices.

“Should we set an alarm?” Luka mumbled, feeling the weight and emotional turmoil of the day catching up to him. He reached across the small gap for her, and her fingers met his.

“Already did,” Marinette said smugly.

“Look at you, ahead of the game already.”

“Lulu?” she giggled, and Luka opened his eyes at the nickname--not realising they had closed.

“Yes,  _ chanson?” _

“Good night.” He watched her own eyes drift shut as her grip on his hand tightened. “We have to be up in five hours.”

“Aah…” Luka groaned into his pillow, breathed deep, and tried to relax.

“Good night then,  _ chanson. _ I love you.”

“Sweet dreams, Lulu. I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

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